


Quarantine

by Clarimonde



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Din hears more than he should, Finally forced to use words, Grinding, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Quarantine, accidental virus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23363452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarimonde/pseuds/Clarimonde
Summary: When Din and Corin are put in harms way, they have to be locked away from each other with only a comms link between them. Secrets are revealed and nothing will ever be the same.
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 130





	Quarantine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).



> Based off a discord prompt, this was supposed to be a way to get the lockdown horror out of my head and turn it into a smutty one shot. Instead please enjoy this angsty mess, there is smut though so enjoy. Trigger warning for mentions of virus and quarantine.

Din was going to make the client pay for this if it was the last thing he ever did. With hindsight he should have realised that no job could be as simple as this one was supposed to have been, Corin probably considered it bad luck, but Din knew. The client had lied to them and in thirty days, when all being well, this was over, that client would pay. 

It started with a call from Karga. Although Din was no longer an official member of the guild, his former employer still passed him jobs from time to time, aware of how much he needed credits while on the run. The message came through while they were staying at the new Covert, a semi-permanent base hidden in an old cave system, miles from empire or alliance space. Corin was still on edge at being around so many of Din’s tribe, convinced beyond any words that he was still regarded as an enemy. Paz had tried to reassure him but that was not a role that came naturally to Paz. The ex-trooper kept himself to himself, only interacting with the child and to a lesser extent, Din. They had, of course, been given a room with a single large bed but by this point neither man expected anything else. They would fall asleep facing away from each other, as far away as they could get and when they woke tangled together it went unacknowledged. 

Din had wondered for a while if the tension between them and the instinctive need to be close when sleep lowered their barriers meant that what he felt for Corin was not one sided. The more time that passed he had to give up his hope. They were friendly, they trusted each other, but that was all. The memory of lips pressed to his wrist burned in his chest. When they woke in each other’s arms it felt like home, but then Corin would realise where he was and jump back as though scalded before fleeing to see to the kid. They never discussed it. 

The job was to retrieve cargo from a derelict ship, the crew had abandoned decades ago, taking off in the life pods and then vanishing from the records. The ship drifted through the outer rim, lost until now. It was only a three-crew cargo vessel, small and easy to miss but it carried a valuable haul of equipment and medical supplies. All they would have to do was dock, load up, and leave. It should have been simple.

The child was having fun with the other foundlings so Din decided to leave him in the covert with Paz. They were heading out to the edges of known space and it felt safer to leave the kid with the Mandalorian tribe for a few days. Paz promised to check in daily and keep him posted. There was no possibility of leaving Corin behind and although he had been reluctant to part from the little one, he knew Din would need an extra set of hands. 

It took two standard days to reach their target, two days in which they barely interacted. They slept in shifts and ate alone. Even in the cockpit they sat mostly in silence. Din had the impression a few times that Corin wanted to say something, he kept catching him looking at him, but when noticed he would turn away with a slight blush. Din didn’t trust himself to speak, frightened that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop and that the gentle look in those blue eyes would turn to disgust. 

They were sitting in tense silence when the ship came into visual range. It was fairly small, not much larger than the Razor Crest and luckily still seemed to have power. Although it had ran out of fuel for propulsion years ago, the power cells still kept life support and gravity operational. Scans showed no trace of life forms on board. Din docked the Razor Crest alongside the only airlock while Corin sliced into the ships security terminal to open the doors. The resourcefulness of his companion was always a source of pride for the Mandalorian, he wished Corin could see himself the way he did, as someone of immense value. 

Emergency lighting flickered in and out as they made their way through the deserted corridors. It was eerily quiet, only the faintest hum of the ship systems, no engine noise, not even a droid to break the silence. Habit armed them with blasters and vibro knives as they made their way to the cargo hold, you could never be too careful. 

As they passed through the crew’s quarters, they both felt the unease begin to increase. It looked like the crew had left in a hurry, a chair was knocked over and plates and glasses still sat on the table. A data pad was discarded on the floor, cracked as though trodden on. Din took in Corin’s expression as he looked around the room, something bad had happened here long ago, they could both see the signs. Later, with hindsight, Din wondered why they didn’t leave then.

The cargo hold contained a couple of dozen wooden crates, the wood old and brittle. Din was glad they both wore gloves as the first crate gave out beneath their fingertips. Inside was a metal canister, the seal around the rim moved as they fumbled to catch it, the airtight rubber dried out and pulled back, releasing a hiss of air. They leapt back at once, putting as much distance between them and the cannister as they could. The cannister with the very prominent biohazard symbol etched into it. 

Corin gave him a wide-eyed look, fear and confusion equally present in his expression. Din grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the hold, mind whirling with fear. What had been in the container?

It was Corin who had the presence of mind to download the ship’s log and cargo manifest onto his data pad before they took off. The containers were from a research facility and they carried a new kind of virus. It was airborne and very contagious, not terribly deadly to most healthy humans but lethal to some other species and the very young and old. The crew were non-human and had fled when they realised what they were carrying. The cargo destination was the same company the client now worked for; they must have been waiting for the ship to be spotted so they could reclaim their lost property. Din refused to give them the satisfaction. He flew them to a safe distance and fired with everything the Razor crest could muster, leaving nothing but fire and dust of the cursed ship. 

“So, do we have a plan?” Corin was trembling with shock. Din wanted to hold him, to try and comfort him but he didn’t dare. There was no telling if either or both had been infected and if he was, he couldn’t risk passing it to Corin.  
“Your helmet would have kept you protected wouldn’t it? You can just leave me somewhere where I won’t be a danger and then get back to the kid.”  
“No, it doesn’t filter out anything as small as a virus, and I’m absolutely not leaving you.”  
“We can’t bring this back to the covert though.”  
“We won’t, there is another way.” Corin could tell by the Mandalorian’s tone that the other way was not going to be pleasant.   
“We go into quarantine.”  
“Quarantine? Like we stay in different parts of the ship? Would that work?”  
“No, although it will do till we get there. There are facilities across the galaxy that deal with this sort of thing, they’re not exactly official but if we can get to one it will help us.”

Din sent Corin down to the lower level while he stayed up in the cockpit. The Navi computer found him what he was looking for and in the first piece of good news that day it was only about four hyperspace hours away. He sent a message explaining their situation to the facility and received back a reply in minutes. There were no other guests so they could easily be accommodated. Din sent all of the available information on the virus for analysis and then steeled himself for the hardest call. 

Paz answered at once and listened as his friend explained what had happened. Once he had calmed down and finished crying for vengeance, he went to fetch the kid to say a temporary goodbye. Din tried to keep his voice level as he spoke to his Ad’ika, telling him to be good for his uncle Paz. He missed him, Corin missed him, and they would see him again as soon as it was safe.   
“Paz please, keep him safe for me, I trust you with my life, with his life, but please? We’ve never been apart for so long.”  
Paz sounded a little hoarse as he promised he would protect the little one with his life, as long as Din looked after himself.  
“And your Cyar’ika too, don’t you dare come back alone Djarin.” Paz warned him.  
Din was too stressed to object to the term, Corin was beloved, even if he had never told him.

He cut the call before it became overwhelming and sat back in the pilot’s chair, thinking about how much simpler things used to be when he was a lone bounty hunter. Before his family took over his heart. 

The facility was onboard an unmanned space station. The company who ran it did so remotely from halfway across the galaxy, droids took care of the day to day activity. Din knew this would be the case, it was the only safe way, but he itched at the thought of being held in lockdown by the machines. A protocol droid met them at the docking bay and explained the procedure. They, and all of their possessions would be decontaminated. The Razor Crest would be pumped full of an antiviral gas to kill any surface traces. Analysis of the virus suggested a quarantine time of thirty days during which time they would be separated. Once the time was passed, and subject to scan results, they would be free to leave. 

There was no time to say goodbye. Another droid appeared and ushered Corin off in one direction, while Din was led in another. The last sight he had of him was a brief look over his shoulder and worried blue eyes locked onto his visor, then he was gone.

Din was taken to a decontamination room where he stripped off and headed into a real water shower. It had a strong chemical smell and stung his eyes and nose. His clothing was taken to an incinerator but his armour and helmet were placed in a fume chamber and sterilised before being returned. Clean clothing and slippers were provided. No weapons of any kind were allowed in the rooms once they were locked in, previous guests had not reacted well to the solitude and so new precautions were now the norm. Din rolled his eyes at the thought, he had spent years alone on his ship, how hard could this be?

Very hard, painfully hard. It had turned out to be nothing like his lonely space travels. 

The droid showed him through a decontamination airlock, into a stark white room, about twelve feet square, just enough space for a single bed, a chair and table, and an alcove with a built-in fresher. A data pad with TV shows and books was provided for entertainment, anything else required would be brought in by a service droid. Din’s trigger finger twitched. He neatly stacked his armour in the corner of the room but kept on the helmet, he felt naked without it. It was bad enough having to walk about in slippers instead of his usual boots but the bare metal floor was cold so he grumbled but kept them on. He wondered how Corin was doing, he loved the cold.

The droid returned to the room a couple of hours later, pushing a small metal trolley. Food and drink were placed on the table and the droid indicated for Din to stand while he was scanned and a blood sample was taken for analysis.

“Is Corin ok?” The droid didn’t answer but picked up the last item on the trolley. It was a simple handheld comms device. There were two buttons, one to open and one to close the channel, as there were no other controls it seemed that it could only communicate with a paired device. The gadget was left on the table and the droid departed, leaving Din alone again. He pulled off his helmet and picked at the tasteless food before giving up and slumping on the bed with the box in his lap. He pushed the open button and heard a click and then a faint humming sound.  
“Corin? Is that you?”  
“Din?” the humming stopped and it sounded like his companion had moved closer to the transmitter. Corin must have left it open and then got on with whatever he was doing.  
“Are you alright?”  
“I’m ok, they fed me and there is space to work out on the floor. I’ve had worse.” Din could imagine the expression that went with the rueful little chuckle. 

They chatted for a while about nothing until the room’s ambient settings switched into night mode and the lights dimmed. Corin yawned and then apologised, the stress of the day had wiped him out. Din wished him a good night’s sleep and then closed the channel. He lay awake for hours staring at the ceiling, missing the kid and trying to picture Corin’s face as he slept. 

Din had spent years travelling alone in the Razor Crest, was quite used to going weeks without speaking, and years without physical contact outside of combat. He was, in theory, the perfect candidate to come out of isolation with his sanity intact so why was he suffering so much after only three days? He missed the child, that was certainly true but he also felt trapped. On his ship he was free to travel where he pleased and keep whatever schedule he wanted. There was always the sense of motion, even when stuck in the hyperspace limbo he was still going somewhere. Here he was stuck, useless. He paced the room, angry and a little scared, the walls seeming to close in around him. His only solace was talking to Corin. 

The ex-trooper picked up on his mood on the second day and offered to leave the comms open so they could just chat and try to take Din’s mind off things. Corin took to confinement like a fish to water, his conditioning made it so easy to submit to the forced routine. He explained without any consciousness of how terrible it sounded that he had regularly been locked in small rooms while training and that he had learned that it was safer to just go with it. The same went for the medical tests, the awful food, and the enforced sleep wake cycle. He seemed incredibly grateful that he was allowed to work out when he pleased and that he could still speak with Din. 

Din tried to be angry on Corin’s behalf, he told him over and over that he was his own person but his cheerfulness was hard to argue with. It never failed to impress the Mandalorian that no matter how much he learned about what Corin had gone through in the past, he was still such a positive soul. It also did take his mind off his confinement, they talked more than usual about nothing in particular and Din promised himself that when they were released, he would make an effort to not lapse back into silence. 

At night, Din got to return the favour. It began on the fourth evening, Corin seemed less than his usual cheery self as it grew later. He seemed reluctant to discuss it at first but eventually Din managed to coax out of him that he had been having bad dreams. They both missed the kid like a physical ache but it was Corin who so often curled up with him at night and rocked the little one to sleep. His dreams revolved around separation, sometimes the kid would be snatched from him, sometimes Din would push him out of the ship and then take off without him. When he woke, he was alone and terrified. Din offered to keep the comms open at night so that he knew he was there, if he woke, he could call out for him. 

For the next week things settled down. Din enjoyed talking to Corin in the day and his presence soothed the fears away at night. His only source of unease came from missing his son and from the effect Corin’s voice was beginning to have on him. 

There was nothing wrong with his companion’s voice, quite the opposite. He found himself eagerly awaiting the small chuckles or the breathy exclamations that punctuated his speech. He tried to visualise his face, his expressions, but inevitably his mind wandered to Corin’s eyes or his lips. In the privacy of his head, Din could admit to himself how attractive he found him. Several times he had missed the thread of a conversation while imagining those lips on his, blue eyes blown wide. When Corin worked out Din would excuse himself and close the comms, the sounds he made threatened to bring him to his knees. 

The Mandalorian was pulled out of a light sleep in the early hours of the morning by a quiet gasp. Corin had been sleeping better lately but they still kept the comms open out of habit as they entered their second week. He sat up in the dark and listened, Corin sometimes mumbled in his sleep and it was better to see if it seemed to be a regular dream or a nightmare before intervening. 

The noise came again, breathy and urgent, he could hear a rustling as though the blankets were pulled back. Another sharp gasp with a whine at the end and Din almost fell out of bed. Sweat beaded his brow as he listened to the unmistakable sound of Corin pleasuring himself. This was a private moment, either Corin had forgotten the comms was open or he thought Din would be asleep but either way this was an invasion of his friend’s privacy. He fumbled for the box.  
“Din.” His name groaned out like a prayer.  
“Corin?”  
There was silence, then a whimper, and then the comms closed.   
Din lay hard and aching through the rest of the night, hearing those delicious sounds in his head on a loop. 

It had built up like slow moving fire over the months they had travelled together. He had not understood at first, the pull towards his companion unlike anything he had experienced before. Lust was something quick and disposable, love was for family. It took weeks to realise there was a difference between love and being in love but once he had realised, he was lost. Corin was under his skin, a hunger that could not be fed. Din wanted him so badly it hurt but he knew how Corin thought. The former trooper was so terrified of being abandoned that if he found out about Din’s feelings there was a risk he would go along with things just to be kept around. Din had resolved to try to build up his self esteem and hope that one day Corin might reciprocate freely. Then he heard his name on his lips as he moaned in pleasure and it had been both his wildest dream and his worst nightmare

A nightmare because Corin kept the comms closed for the whole of the next day and by night Din was almost out of his mind with worry. By the time he heard the click as the channel finally opened, he was ready to promise anything for Corin just to speak to him again. 

“Din?” He sounded so small, voice rough and Din could imagine the tears of the day.   
“I’m here.”  
“I’ve been thinking, when we get out of here, I understand you won’t want to see me again so I can stay below in the cargo bay while you find somewhere to drop me off.”  
“Corin I…”  
“No, its ok. This is all my fault. Just please tell the kid goodbye, and that I’m sorry.” His voice broke on the last word and the quiet sobs tore Din’s heart.   
“Corin, please just listen to me, don’t speak, just listen. I’m not leaving you anywhere. You and me together are getting out of here and we are going back for the kid and you will hold him again and no one is saying goodbye. Do you understand me?”  
“I…”  
“No, no arguments. That is what will happen and if you try to leave, I will hunt you down and bring you back to us, do you understand me?”  
“Yes, but why?”  
“First answer me a question. Do you have feelings for me, or was that something else? I won’t be mad but I need to know.”  
There was silence again but he knew he was still there.  
“Corin please?” Desperation crept into Dins voice, everything depended on the answer.  
“I do, I’m so sorry. You must hate me.”  
“Corin, I feel the same Cyar’ika.”  
“You can’t! why would you say that? Is it to make me feel less guilty?”   
“No, I truly want you, I’m sorry I never told you before but it had to be your choice. When I heard you say my name it was everything I ever wanted.”  
“You can’t mean that, you’re perfect, I’m just…”  
“Just Corin, you are exactly what I want.”  
“You really want me?”  
“with all my heart, when we get out of here, I want to show you exactly how much.”  
“Two more weeks though.” Corin huffed out a relieved chuckle but Din knew it would be no easy job to convince him.

He spent the rest of their quarantine time telling Corin everything he loved about him. He couldn’t quite say the actual three words yet, it didn’t seem right over the comms but he said everything else that came to mind. Corin opened up like a flower in the sunshine, shyly at first but then more eagerly as he opened up his heart. 

“Do you remember when we first travelled together? Staying in the village with M’jau? You gave me your armour.”  
“Of course, you needed the protection my perfect walking disaster.” Din teased. He knew full well that Corin had a self-sacrificing streak a mile wide when it came to those he cared about. Corin laughed, unable to disagree.  
“Do you remember when I asked you to let me fight by your side?”  
Din remembered the burning feel of lips on his wrist, the heat of the lean body as he shoved the ex-trooper against the tree, keeping him from moving. Keeping Corin safe. It had been the tipping point from friends to something more.  
“Do you remember when I took your wrist and kissed it? I did it to keep you with me and I hated myself for being so selfish. When you held me close, I forgot everything, forgot the fight and the village. There was only you, ever since then, only you. How can you want to be with me? I’m worthless.”  
“Corin, if it is the last thing I ever do I will make you realise exactly what you are worth. I wouldn’t part with you for all the beskar in the galaxy. I wanted to keep you with me too. Just you, me and the kid together, somewhere safe.”  
“I want to kiss you again; I want you to kiss me too.” Corin sounded so unbearably guilty, as though he had confessed to murder.   
“I know we can’t, I would never interfere with your religion, but it hurts so much.”

Din couldn’t pretend he didn’t want the same, it had consumed his thoughts for so long. There were loopholes, whispers he had heard from others in the covert.  
“Corin, when we get out of here, I need you to do something for me when I ask. No questions, just promise to do as I say?”  
“Anything.”  
“I will ask you to close your eyes and keep them closed, can you do that Cyare?”  
“Yes.”  
“Ok, until we get out then.”  
It felt as though they had reached an understanding, something new and fragile beginning to grow.

As the lights dimmed at night their thoughts turned more towards what they wanted to do when they got out. Din near enough begged for Corin to give him a repeat performance with his name again on his lips and this time Corin was happy enough to oblige, providing Din returned the favour in turn. Neither held back as the sounds increased, driving each to more desperate heights. They came within seconds of each other, crying the other’s name. It was so much, so overwhelming but ultimately not enough. 

On the twenty-fifth day the droid brought the news that they were both free, neither had shown any trace of the virus and the test results showed it had probably become less potent with the sample age. They gathered up their possessions and were escorted separately to the Razor Crest. Din settled in his familiar pilot’s chair and set the coordinates for the covert. Corin sat back in his usual seat, neither spoke.

Once safely back among the stars Din engaged autopilot and turned to his companion.  
“Cyar’ika.” His voice almost a whisper, it pulled Corin towards him and then they finally crashed together. Corin straddled his lap in the chair, trying to hold him as close as possible. Din’s fingers gripped his sides so hard there were sure to be bruises later.   
“Close your eyes Cyare.”

Corin nodded shakily and closed them. He heard a hiss and something cold and heavy was placed in his lap. He screwed his eyes tighter shut, still not really able to believe this was happening. Din took a moment to just stare at Corin’s face without the filters of his visor, to breathe in his scent now that he was so close. He had never felt this exposed, the fear prickled at the edges of his mind but then Corin parted his lips slightly and Din closed the gap, all rational thought blown away. A gentle press of closed lips at first woke his nerve endings but when Corin pulled him nearer and moaned against him it became a storm of lips and teeth and tongues. Time hung suspended as they kissed. Din lost himself in the taste and feel of this wonderful perfect man. 

A shift of clothed hips brought him back to the present as Corin tried to wriggle even closer in his lap. The sudden delicious friction pulled all the blood in him south, their night time conversations recalled in full clarity. Din pulled back from the kiss; the movement sent sparks through his abdomen.  
“Keep your eyes closed.”  
He took the helmet back with shaking fingers and slipped it into place. “Ok, you can open them.”  
The blue of Corin’s eyes was almost entirely gone, drowned out and blackened with lust. He looked half wrecked.   
“Tell me what you want Cyar’ika, whatever you need you can have.”  
“Touch me, please Din? I need to know this is real.”

The Mandalorian was man of legendary self-control, but here, finally was too much to handle. A guttural growl broke free as he pulled the thin shirt away, tearing the buttons off in his haste. He yanked off his gloves and began to explore the warm smooth skin, muscles rippling beneath his fevered fingertips. Corin whined at the touch, grinding his hips into Din’s rock-hard length and pulling another growl from the hunter. 

When Corin tried to get his hands under the straps of his beskar the sudden shift almost toppled them out of the chair. Din shoved him to his feet and pulled him towards the ladder and the sleeping space below. Their remaining armour and clothing were left in their wake, all but the helmet falling prey to eager hands. Din sank back onto the narrow cot, pulling Corin on top of him. He could feel every inch of him now, bodies pressed flush together in a perfect fit. Corin laced his fingers with Din’s and pinned his hands above his head. For a single moment they lay still, just staring at each other, but then Corin lowered his mouth to Din’s neck and began to slowly thrust his hips. It was all Din could do to meet his thrusts, the slick heavy feel as they slid against each other driving him out of his mind. Corin tightened his grip on his hands, using the leverage to grind him into the thin mattress. It was too much, Din felt it charging like lightening, teeth bit into his shoulder and the world went white. Someone screamed, it could have been either of them. 

A heavy leaden bliss seeped into his bones. Din could feel the erratic broken rhythm of Corin’s thrusts against his sensitive flesh, he was close.  
“Come for me Cyar’ika, let go.”  
If Din had thought Corin beautiful before, it was nothing compared to seeing him finally come, Din’s name gasped out before he slumped against his chest. 

Neither moved for a while, too tired and drunk on each other to get up but eventually their bodies cooled and they felt the sticky wetness covering them. There was no water for a shower but Corin fetched a clean cloth and a bowl and between them they cleaned each other up. They followed the trail of clothing back to the cockpit, dressing as they went and giggling over the mess they had made. Din settled back into the pilot’s chair again and Corin made for his usual spot. A gloved hand stopped him and pulled him back until he was cradled against the beskar chest plate, secure and safe.   
“I can still fly and keep you in my arms Cyare, you belong with me.”  
“Truly?”  
“Truly, now let’s go find our child.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic almost broke me, it is more than twice as long as planned so please leave kudos or comments if you enjoyed. thanks.


End file.
